


The Last Son

by RevanKazama



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Argon is Gil-galad, Gen, Unreliable Narrator, Yet another Gil-galad origin story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevanKazama/pseuds/RevanKazama
Summary: Argon was always the last, no matter how much he hated it. The last son of Nolofinwë and Anairë, the last child of the House of Finwë, and eventually, the last heir to the throne of the Noldor.
Relationships: Anairë & Argon | Arakáno
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	The Last Son

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this old thing lying in files. I wrote it some years ago but never got around to posting it, so I decided it had waited long enough. I may have made Argon too angsty, though.

Argon was and is the last. From the very beginning, He was born the last and least of the children of Nolofinwë and Anairë. 

And though he eventually grew taller than anyone else in his family, they continued to overshadow him in every other way. Findekáno was the perfect warrior: strong, valiant and charming. Turukáno was their father’s protégé and mirror image, the wise statesman and cunning politician. Irissë was the best hunter in all of Aman, surpassing even Tyelkormo, and one of the most beautiful elleth in Aman besides.

How could Arakáno, whose only special feature was his extraordinary height, possibly compare? His father-name was Arakáno, and his mother called him Artanáro, but he failed to live up to both names in the end. He was only a mediocre king, and he never had the fire to truly defeat his enemies.

It was something he used to bitterly lament, being overshadowed and forgotten by his family. 

Now, he only wishes to go back to that happy time. That time when his family was alive. Because he is the last once more, the last of his family in Middle-Earth. He has everything he ever wanted: power, fame, glory, kingship. And it has cost him almost everything, even his name. Because Arakáno Nolofinwion is dead, and Erenion Gil-galad has taken his place. Because Arakáno was a weak and foolish child, self-absorbed and resentful, and the High King of the Noldor must be strong, wise, selfless and kind (even if Gil-galad is only a mask, and behind it, Argon is as weak and selfish as he ever was.)

To tell the truth, he does still resent his father and siblings, though for different reasons than he did in the Years of the Trees. His father, for abandoning his famed wisdom and rushing off to fight Morgoth like a fool. Fingon, for getting himself killed by Gothmog. Turgon and Aredhel, for abandoning him. Turgon especially, because he did it thrice, the first time when he ran off to Gondolin, the second time after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, leaving him as Prince Regent of the Noldor. And the third time, when Turgon could and should have fled Gondolin but chose to stay and die in the ruins of the city, leaving Gil-Galad, then known as Argon, to pick up the pieces again.

But he hates himself most of all, for not being able to save them. For not noticing the signs before Turgon and Aredhel vanished. For not being able to stop his father from letting despair consume him. For letting himself get separated from Fingon during the Nirnaeth and not being there to save his brother.

When the Host of Valinor comes, Argon’s mother comes with them as Uncle Arafinwë’s second-in-command, Argon barely has the strength to wait for privacy before he embraces Anairë and weeps, apologizing in tears for not listening to her, for letting his dreams of glory and power blind him and lead him to murder and theft. And most of all, he begs her forgiveness for not being able to save his father and siblings, for letting their family fall apart.

His mother, his beautiful, radiant mother whom Argon has never, ever, deserved, forgives him unreservedly as she holds him and comforts him as she did when he was a child. She even tells him that it is not his fault that their family died, that Fingolfin, Turgon, Fingon and Aredhel all made their own choices, though Argon cannot bring himself to believe it.

After the War of Wrath, when the Valar lift their ban, Argon desperately wants to go home and leave it all behind. To go home with his mother, to leave kingship to his uncle Arafinwë and be the carefree prince once more.

But too many of the Noldor wish to remain in Middle-Earth, and Argon cannot leave them and abandon his duty. When he tells Anairë this, she is unsurprised. She only smiles sadly and tells Argon that she is proud of him.

For the next three thousand years, Argon tries his best to live up to his mother’s love and pride, to rule his kingdom well, to guide Elrond, who looks at him with love and respect that Argon knows he does not deserve, to keep his people safe and happy.

But his best is not enough to save cousin Celebrimbor and the people of Eregion, to form an alliance between the Free Peoples quickly or defeat Sauron without paying for it an ocean of blood. 

And as he dies, Argon cannot help but feel that he has yet again failed to measure up to the rest of his family, though there is no bitterness in the thought, not anymore. He only wishes that he had been able to be better, to be the savior king that the Noldor deserved rather than the weakling whose people fled because they knew he could not protect them. To have been the son and brother that his family deserved rather than a failure.


End file.
